


Aftermath

by lizandletdie



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: Angst, F/M, Honeymoon, Hurt/Comfort, Rumbelle Christmas in July, rcij
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-25
Updated: 2015-07-25
Packaged: 2018-04-11 03:36:29
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,586
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4419647
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lizandletdie/pseuds/lizandletdie
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Set during the “fade to black” between the honeymoon dance and Rumple going to get the hat. That’s right, kids, it’s post-Zelena PTSD honeymoon smut! RCIJ gift for dr-rushs-glasses. Special thanks for faithoshauntassy for beta reading this for me.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Aftermath

He’d succeeded. Rumpelstiltskin had avenged his son and now all that lay between him and a happy ending with his new wife was a wedding night and the rest of their lives. All it took was putting the real dagger back in her purse and going on with putting the events of the past year behind them. He’d given her the first dance he’d always thought she deserved, with the closest approximation of the man she deserved he could possibly manage.

The day had worn on, and the night had come, and he was now faced with the troubling prospect of what that would entail. Not that he and Belle had never been intimate before, but it hadn’t been more than a few times in total and both had been… before. Last night, they had simply laid in bed and held each other, both so obliviously happy for his release from captivity that thoughts of anything more happening had been the furthest thing from both their minds. But a wedding night had certain expectations with it, and he was determined to live up to them. He had to, after all. He’d managed her first time reasonably well, for gods’ sake, so he could manage this, couldn’t he?

That voice was still there, though. That nagging little voice reminding him that the last time she’d touched him he hadn’t been so damaged. He’d been exuberant and thrilled at the sight of her. Now, though, he felt every one of his three-hundred years and there was an ache in his soul he didn’t think would ever mend. He was a beaten man, yet somehow she had chosen him. He would never understand that, even if he lived another three-hundred years.

She was in the bathroom right now, getting ready for her wedding night and he was sitting on the edge of the bed and hadn’t even taken more than his jacket off. He couldn’t bring himself to be more exposed yet. The suits were an armour all their own, and he was loathe to remove those last pieces even alone in the room. Besides, he could think of nothing less appealing for Belle to come across when she did emerge than him naked on the bed. And then suddenly, there she was – a white nightie and chestnut curls, silhouetted by the soft glow of the lights behind her. She paused in the doorway with a sultry grin on her face as she looked at him and if he’d ever seen anything more beautiful than that he couldn’t remember what it was.

“Hey,” she said softly, swishing her hips a little as she came to stand in front of him.

Rumpelstiltskin reached his hand out and cupped her hip, mostly to reassure himself this wasn’t some beautiful hallucination but he delighted in the softness of her as he stroked the silk fabric wrapped around her.

He remembered this, at least; remembered the smell of her and the feel of her and the weight of her as she moved to straddle his lap and the taste of her lips on his. His body could perform even as his mind struggled to keep up, and he felt himself grow hard underneath her as she ran her fingers through his hair and then down to the front of his shirt.

It was hard to keep himself in that moment with his bride, but the noises Zelena had made when he kissed her had been shrill compared to Belle’s needy little moans and Zelena’s hair had never been as soft as Belle’s. He moved his lips down to Belle’s throat, hoping to get her to make more sound. Sounds to drive out the voices in his head and keep him anchored here with her.

Belle leaned harder over him and he could tell she was trying to lean him backwards, but something in him rebelled, because this was still Belle and he was needing all his focus to keep himself here with her and not back in a little farmhouse on the edge of town and no, not there.

He gasped, and prayed that she hadn’t noticed his tenseness before he could force himself to relax, but she was always observant and he had always loved that about her.

“Rumple?” she said curiously, pulling away but leaving her hands on his shoulders. “Is everything okay?”

“Of course, sweetheart,” he replied. “I’m fine.”

“You flinched,” she said, staring at him and waiting for an answer he didn’t want to give.

It was on the tip of his tongue to lie to her outright, to claim that he certainly hadn’t been having any flashbacks at all and that she had been mistaken, but there was no way she’d have believed that. She’d already noticed the flinching, and something in him didn’t want to lie to her about this last thing, after so many other lies he’d told. It didn’t mean he wasn’t above other tricks, of course.

“It’s fine,” he said softly, kissing her neck tenderly in the hopes of distracting her. “I promise it’s fine.”

She made a soft little moan, and tilted her head to the side before stopping him with a hand to the chest.

“It’s not fine,” she replied. “You can tell me.”

But he couldn’t tell her, not really. There were only so many ways to tell your wife she was reminding you of the woman who killed your son and none of them seemed like a particular good thing to blurt out on your wedding night. He could get through this. He could and he would and she never needed to know the details, except she had slipped off his lap now and was sitting next to him on the bed and stroking some of his hair behind his ear. He couldn’t help but turn his face into the palm of her hand, needing this little human comfort which had been denied him for so long. No one but Belle had touched him with true kindness since Bae had fallen into this world so long ago.

“You have to be honest with me,” she continued. “You can trust me. I’m always here.”

But she wasn’t always there, was she? No one had ever always been there for him, not even when he was a boy. He couldn’t remember being aware of the feeling of abandonment, because it was something that had always been a part of him. His entire life had been a series of people leaving, but how to explain that to a woman who had only ever been abandoned by him?

“I love you,” he said instead, putting an arm around her and pulling her tight to him. “I truly, truly do.”

“That wasn’t an answer,” she said, poking his side teasingly. “Is it about Zelena?”

She said it so simply, her voice muffled by her face being cradled into the side of his neck, but the name still hit him like a slap to the face.

He must have flinched, or inhaled sharply, or done something to confirm her suspicions, because he heard a soft little oh murmured against his neck, more a burst of air than an actual word.

“Oh Rumple,” she whispered, moving to cradle his face in her hand again and press her forehead to his. “My love. I’m sorry.”

“There’s nothing you need to be sorry for,” he replied, and it was the most honest thing he thought he’d ever said in his life. “I’m the one who should be apologizing.”

Belle had done nothing, and yet she was paying the price for his own misdeeds and his failures. He’d brought her nothing but weakness and misery, and had nothing to offer her besides a promise of more of the same. He should remind her of all of that, and give her this one last chance to leave him here with his demons and have the life she deserved. But he was a coward, and he couldn’t bear to lose her, too. Not after he’d lost everything else, not after he’d lost Bae.

“No,” she said, and for a second he wondered if she’d read his thoughts. “I’m sorry I didn’t think of it sooner. I’m sorry I tried to push you.”

He wanted to be pushed, though. He didn’t want to risk losing her unwavering belief that he could do better. The only other person who had ever thought he was more than he was had been his son.

“You didn’t push me,” he said instead.

She looked at him and he knew she didn’t believe a word he was saying, and somehow that was comforting in and of itself, that Belle somehow knew this folly and that she hadn’t left yet was something he didn’t think he’d ever quite manage to comprehend, but she was still here and he had to hold that thread still.

Belle scooted back from him, sliding up the bed until her back rested against the headboard, and she patted the space next to her, inviting him to come lay next to her. When he had joined her, she curled herself around him and tucked her arm around his side.

“Do you like this?” she said once she’d settled.

“Of course,” he replied almost instantly, wrapping his arms around her and holding her as tight as he dared. She was warm and fit against him so comfortably.

“Good,” she said softly, snuggling further into his side and fitting her leg in between his.

For a time, she didn’t do much more than drag her fingertips across his side and breathe steadily. He’d almost thought she’d gone to sleep when she turned her head to face him and smiled at him, inviting him to lean down and kiss her. She kissed him back languidly, letting him set the pace this time. It was a little strange, in all their previous sexual encounters Belle had been the one to take control and he had willingly surrendered himself to her in a desperate effort to please. This was… different.

“Do you know how proud I am of you?” she asked, nuzzling him again. “You’ve been so strong this year and so brave.”

He couldn’t help but scoff at that. He’d been terrified and cowardly and just tried to survive to come back home to her, there was nothing brave about that.

“What?” she asked indignantly. “You were.”

“There wasn’t anything brave about it,” he said at last. “It was survival.”

Bae had been brave, Rumpelstiltskin had just run and tried to hide.

“You fought for us,” Belle whispered. “That night. You fought for both of us. You resisted the dagger, and you sacrificed everything for Bae and I. You were brave.”

This was it, he realized. This was the rest of his life, and a woman who would watch him fail her and call him brave. He didn’t know what he’d done to deserve her, and truth be told he probably didn’t, but he couldn’t worry about that right now. He couldn’t let her regret that she’d chosen him of all people.

“Belle,” he whispered into her hair, his hand roaming down her body to the nest of curls at her cleft and stroking her with his fingers. “Do you trust me?”

“What?” she asked him.

“Do you trust me?”

Just then he hit upon the nub between her legs with his thumb and she cried out.

“Oh yes,” She arched her back and leaned her head back, and he wasn’t sure if she was answering him or just reacting to his touch, but he didn’t dare ask her to clarify, instead he began stroking his fingers into her, seeking out the places he knew gave her pleasure.

“Good,” he whispered. “Trust me now, sweetheart.”

“I always trust you,” she replied and he could hardly stand to look in her eyes for the unchecked affection he saw there. “Do you trust me?”

“Always,” he promised her, curling his fingers in her until she moaned his name and he felt her come undone with her hands grasping his hair and his shirt. He would trust her with every inch of himself if that’s what it took to see her like this every night for the rest of his life.

It took Belle a few moments to disengage herself from him, but soon enough she was kissing his neck and unbuttoning his shirt gently.

“How much do you trust me?” she asked him.

“More than anyone,” he whispered, curling his hand around her upper arm. “More than myself, sometimes.”

“Then tell me what you need from me,” she said. “Tell me what you want.”

“Say my name,” he said at last. “Let me know you’re here.”

“Rumple,” she said at last. “I’m always here, Rumple.”

He smiled, and kissed her forehead one last time before her hands had his shirt off his shoulders.

“My Belle,” he crooned, kissing her neck and shoulder as her hands found his back and then his hips. “My beautiful Belle.”

“I’m right here, Rumple,” she promised him.

She was voracious now, pulling his trousers off of him, freeing his erection. He lowered himself over her again, his cock pressing against her inner thighs.

She wrapped her legs around his back, pulling him closer to her center. He wanted her now more than he had ever wanted any other woman, he wanted her more than he wanted to keep breathing. And she wanted him. It was that thought that was rushing through his head like flood waters as he pressed himself into her, feeling her fingernails digging into his back as he thrust home. He held himself inside of her then, reveling in the feel of simply being inside of her and being allowed to touch her at all, and especially like this. Her mouth sought his hungrily, and he began slow, deep thrusts in and out of her. He never wanted to be apart from her again.

He began thrusting faster in and out of her as the pressure grew within him. She was moaning his name in little gasps that drove him mad, and he recognized them as signs of her own imminent climax. They spurred him on further as she grabbed his arms tightly and tensed her entire body in her pleasure and he found himself thrust over the brink by her inner convulsions. It was a feeling of a heat building deep within his groin followed by an intense moment of clarity. She was his, forever and always. And he knew in that moment that he would always be hers.

“My Rumple,” she murmured, pushing his hair back off his face. “My love.”

He stayed inside her with his forehead held to her shoulder until both their breathing evened out. Afterward, she rolled to her side and he curled up behind her, holding her to him. Their skin glistened with sweat and eventually he felt her begin to shiver. He grabbed a blanket and draped it over them. She snuggled against him and he could hear her breathing begin to even out as she drifted to sleep. He didn’t dare sleep himself, not yet, not when he had found this little bit of peace in her arms, this liberation from his darkest thoughts.

Rumplestiltskin had never wanted anyone the way he wanted Belle, and he wasn’t sure he would ever grow accustomed to having her, but in these little moments he could almost forget all his flaws in the comfort of her arms.


End file.
